


Dinner And Dessert

by DNash (MonkeyBard)



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M, Sex and Chocolate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-28
Updated: 2006-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:58:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8067268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkeyBard/pseuds/DNash
Summary: Stand-alone PWP story in the Log Rhythms universe. (06/27/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Moppig, who won her very own PWP by naming my website. Thanks, Moppig!  
> This takes place during "Log 2:15," but you don't have to know that to read it.  
> Thanks to my beta JennyB.

* * *

Hoshi entered the galley suspiciously. "Stephanie?" she called.

"Here," answered the blonde, emerging from the pantry with her arms full of baking equipment.

"What are you doing? Does Chef know you're in here?"

"Yeah. I'm slowly winning him over by not breaking anything or leaving a mess. That chocolate body paint had unexpected side benefits, eh?" she joked.

"So why am I here?" asked Sato, watching as Cormack set her burden on the prep counter and delved back into the pantry.

"Because," came the muffled reply, "he still doesn't quite trust me in here alone." She reappeared carrying a container of flour, one of sugar, and one of brown sugar. "Would you get some eggs and butter, please?"

Hoshi moved to the huge refrigeration unit and opened the door. "How much?"

"I don't know. A half dozen eggs and a half kilo of butter? I have a recipe around somewhere."

"What are you making, anyway?" Hoshi gathered the requested items and set them with the rest.

"Cookies."

"Why?"

Suddenly Cormack looked chagrined. "You know the old saying," she said sheepishly.

Sato leaned over, resting her elbows on the counter and lacing her fingers together thoughtfully. Her friend's demeanor made her very curious. "I know a lot of old sayings, but I have no idea which one you're talking about."

"Women bake to resist the urge to merge," quoted Stephanie. She dug out measuring cups and spoons, a large whisk, and a rubber scraper.

"Excuse me?" said Hoshi, giggling.

"You heard me or you wouldn't be asking." She didn't bother to mention that she'd also told Malcolm she'd bake him cookies. It was just luck that her need to bake and her promise to him coincided.

"That statement didn't make any logical sense, you know."

"Screw logic," declared Stephanie flatly. "I'm horny and there's nothing I can do about it."

Hoshi was surprised. She was sure Stephanie and Bonnie had made up since their quarrel, and she'd assumed that meant more than just being friends. In case she was wrong, she shied away from anything too specific in her reply. "I'd say there are a number of things you could do about it."

Cormack gave her a dry look. "Are you offering?"

"Sorry, no."

"Then stop teasing me in my hour of heat, eh?"

"Don't you mean 'need'?"

"No."

Sato laughed out loud, and even Cormack had to chuckle at herself. "Just get me the fucking vanilla and the chocolate chips, okay?"

"Okay."

*****

Cormack sat up in bed, munching a cookie and reading an electronic copy of _Little Birds_. She was alone in the cabin. Liz was out and wouldn't be back that night. _Hope she and Travis like the cookies,_ she thought, taking another bite and brushing the resultant crumbs from the screen of her datapad.

 _Hope Malcolm likes them, too._ She had delivered a large plate of them to him earlier that evening. _I wonder if he shared them with the commander?_ her mind added. A small smile turned up the corner of her lips. She was glad she and Tucker had finally come to an understanding. It was bound to make things a lot easier as time went on.

*****

 _Enterprise_ 's Chief Engineer hurried along the B-deck corridor, trying not to look as though he was hurrying. Malcolm hated it when Trip was late, and Trip was very late. Never mind that his pace was a split-second off a brisk jog, he had convinced himself that anyone he might encounter would never suspect he was anything but calm, cool, and collected—and not in the least bit rushed.

He practiced apologies in his head as he went. The simple truth was he'd been stuck in Engineering due to a power surge in the impulse relays. They'd shut it down quickly enough, but tracking down the cause and fixing it had been another matter entirely. And now he was late.

He reached Malcolm's cabin and, slowing down only enough not to run into the door, he keyed it open. The second he was inside and the door shut behind him, he opened his mouth to apologize. Any words he might have spoken, however, were cut off as his mouth was suddenly filled with something soft and chocolatey. "Mumph?" he queried around the mouthful.

"Oatmeal chocolate chip," Malcolm informed him with a smile. He took a bite from what was left of the cookie he'd fed Trip and chewed it slowly, savoring the rich flavors.

Tucker managed not to choke and swallowed the unexpected bite. "So you're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be?"

"Because I'm two hours late for our date."

Malcolm shrugged and took another thoughtful bite. "I admit I don't like waiting, but it was important. I'll forgive you this time," he added with a teasing smile. "Milk?" He crossed to the desk and picked up the small jug of milk there, pouring two glasses.

"Yeah, please." Trip joined him, taking a filled glass from his lover. "Thanks." Still a bit puzzled, he asked, "So what's with the cookies? You didn't bake them, did you?"

"Good lord, no! We'd both be in sickbay by now if I had. No," he continued, sipping at his drink, "Ensign Cormack made them. They're a family recipe apparently."

Tucker picked up a cookie from the plate on the desk and took a bite, washing it down with a swallow of milk. "They're damn good. How'd you rate homemade cookies?"

"She promised to make me some, and now she has." Reed set his now empty glass down again.

"Yeah, but—"

"Just enjoy the treat," Malcolm cut him off gently. "Chocolate is an aphrodisiac, you know." He leaned towards his lover and licked a crumb from the corner of the taller man's mouth.

At the sensuous touch of his lover's tongue, Trip's heart skipped a beat. He felt his cock strain against his uniform in immediate excitement. A slow grin spread across his face. "That reminds me…"

"I have them right over here," said Malcolm, knowing exactly what the engineer referred to. He crossed to the nightstand where his collection of edible body paint sat with assorted brushes arrayed before it. "I've been contemplating what to paint this evening."

"As long as I'm the canvas, I don't care if you paint stick people," said Trip emphatically.

Malcolm laughed warmly. "Then you'd better finish dinner, so we can have dessert."

Tucker finished the oversized cookie in record time, chasing it down with the last of his milk. The chill of the liquid spread as it coated his esophagus, and he shivered slightly as the sensation hit his belly. "Done," he grinned.

"Good." Malcolm wasn't in the mood to wait any longer. "Strip, canvas," he ordered briskly.

"Yessir." Lascivious grin still plastered on his face, Tucker got naked.

Malcolm didn't protest the resulting heap of clothing piled on the floor. The disorder was more than acceptable considering the payoff. He allowed his eyes to roam up and down his lover's nude form. _It's art all on its own,_ he thought. _It doesn't need embellishment._ But he would embellish it tonight. He smiled, considering his options.

"You gonna paint, or just stand there?" asked Trip. The way Malcolm was looking at him was enough make his cock twitch in anticipation. He made no effort to hide his rapidly increasing arousal.

"Patience, canvas," chided the older man serenely. His own erection was pressing hard against the seam of his blue jeans, but he wasn't ready to give it full play yet. "I'm thinking."

"Can ya think a little faster?" Trip's accent grew thicker as his body ached for the touch of the soft paintbrushes and warm chocolate on his skin.

Without a word, Malcolm selected two of the small bottles and opened them slowly. Next he chose a pair of brushes with equal deliberation.

"Yer doin' this on purpose."

"Yes," agreed Malcolm, "I am." He approached his impatient human canvas, bottles in one hand and brushes in the other. "Turn 'round, please."

Tucker turned so he faced the desk and the window. _Good thing there aren't any nosy neighbors out there,_ he thought with a smirk. _They'd sure get a helluva show._

Slipping one brush between his teeth like a rose held in the mouth of a tango dancer, Malcolm dipped the other into a pot of chocolate and began to paint. He started at Tucker's shoulders, tracing a delicate line across his back from one to the other. Trip shivered at the slight tickle the brush caused, but he didn't move. It wasn't easy. He wanted to squirm under the gentle and erotic touch.

The patterns Malcolm drew were abstract at first—curves, lines, spirals. Slowly they connected and took on recognizable shapes. Two bodies caught in a moment of connection, a moment of passion. He smiled, thinking how useful his classical education had been in providing both the subject and the skill to paint it. _If only Professors Wyndham and Fry knew how I was using what they taught me,_ he thought with a chuckle.

Trip heard the low laugh and said, "I wish I could see what you're doing back there."

"Do you?" replied Malcolm absently. He now held both brushes in his right hand at angles to one another; he'd gotten tired of trading them back and forth from his mouth. There were better things he wanted to do with his lips and tongue than hold onto paintbrushes.

"If it looks half as good as it feels, it's gotta be a bona fide masterpiece," Trip proclaimed.

"You're the masterpiece. This is just a doodle I've added." Suddenly he licked the center of Tucker's back, right where one painted figure's erection entered the ass of the other.

Tucker started and groaned simultaneously. "Malcolm," he began, short of breath, "tell me yer about done paintin'."

"Nearly there." Reed discarded one paint pot and one brush onto the nearby desk. Taking what remained, he got a good amount of pineapple flavored bittersweet chocolate on his brush and drew lazy spirals on Trip's firm buttocks. He grinned to himself as his partner groaned again and repeated his name in a low, pleading voice. Malcolm dipped the brush one last time and set the pot aside. With a hand now free, he ran a finger between Trip's butt cheeks. Trip needed no other prompting to spread his legs and bend over. Taking a split second to slide the milk and cookies to one side, he rested his hands on the edge of the desk.

The chocolate-coated paint brush followed Malcolm's finger, circling his lover's anus once before continuing along his perineum. Reed had to kneel down as he went and took advantage of the position to lick more of the bittersweet confection from Tucker's ass.

Trip gasped as the variety of sensations threatened to overwhelm his diminishing self-control. A glance down confirmed that the tip of his cock was slick with pre-ejaculate. He knew he couldn't hang on much longer. "Fuck, Malcolm—" he begged.

"I plan to." Malcolm stood abruptly and tossed the paintbrush onto the desk. It clattered as it landed and rolled, stopping only as it clinked against the milk jug. He ignored it. He tore off his t-shirt and tossed it aside as well. He undid his jeans and his hands felt the wetness where his arousal had dampened the fabric. It only excited him more. He was in such a hurry, he stumbled a little as he pulled them off, but righted himself quickly enough. Now as naked as his freshly painted canvas, he knelt once again behind Trip.

Malcolm's hands gripped Trip's buttocks, gently spreading them so his tongue could follow the path taken moments before by finger and brush.

Tucker shook and moaned as Reed lapped hungrily at the chocolate coating his skin. He felt his lover's tongue circle his anus then poke teasingly into the tight ring of muscle. He moaned again, beyond words, beyond coherent thought, and leaned over, spreading his legs wider. He thrust his ass back against his lover's touch.

Malcolm tongued his way up from Trip's bum, along his spine to the back of his neck. "I'll be right back," he murmured in the younger man's ear.

They'd learned the previous night that the body paints didn't have quite the right viscosity for what Malcolm planned next. He rifled quickly through the top drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube. He opted not to go for the peppermint this time; the scent wouldn't have gone well with the pervading odor of chocolate and, more particularly, pineapple. He opened the cap and squeezed a good dollop onto one hand as he returned to his lover.

"Now where were we?" he asked rhetorically as he resumed his place behind Trip, setting the bottle aside for later. He laid his body against the taller man, feeling the stickiness of the paints against his chest, belly, hips, and cock. He pressed his erection hard against the fair-haired man's ass and felt Trip push back. Taking his cue, he slipped two lubricated fingers inside his lover, making absolutely certain he was ready.

Tucker's inarticulate moans of pleasure assured Malcolm he was. Reed slipped his fingers out as he grabbed the lube off the desk. He squeezed more onto his already slippery hand and once again set the bottle aside. A small trickle oozed silently down the side of the bottle onto the desk. Malcolm didn't notice. He was too busy rubbing both hands together and over his hard-on. Satisfied he was slick enough for his partner's comfort, he slid between Trip's legs and thrust himself into the waiting engineer. Reed's ardent groans echoed his lover's as he began to move in and out.

With one hand on Trip's hip, Malcolm reached around him with his other arm, finding the other man's engorged penis and taking firm hold of it. The men moved together, finding a rhythm that brought them both closer and closer to climax. Malcolm pounded hard into Trip, and Trip pushed back with equal force, driving the older man's cock deeper. Tucker grunted and groaned at the exquisite sensation as Malcolm's erection struck his prostate again and again. The muscles of his belly clenched and his moans grew louder, signaling to his partner that he was very, very close.

Malcolm withdrew nearly all the way before giving a final thrust. Trip climaxed with a shout, his semen spurting out over Reed's fingers and onto the surface of the desk in front of him. At that moment Malcolm’s control also broke and he came hard into his lover.

They continued to stand there for several moments as breath and heartbeats slowed to normal. Malcolm continued to half stand and half lay along Trip's strong and now exceeding sticky back, inhaling the mingled scents of chocolate, pineapple, and sex. He found it intoxicating.

Eventually Trip took a deep, almost shuddering breath. "God damn, Malcolm," he sighed blissfully.

"Mm-hmm," his lover agreed. Reluctantly Malcolm pulled away and out of the younger man, finally releasing Tucker's now limp penis from his grasp. He stepped back and looked at the chocolatey smear that had been his painting.

Tucker was glad for the release of the extra weight against him; he hadn't realized until that moment how tired his arms were from holding up both of them. But part of him missed the warmth of Reed's body against his back. He stood upright and turned to face Malcolm. "You are one helluva lover."

Malcolm smiled coyly. "Thank you," he said. He leaned in and kissed Trip hotly.

Tucker moaned deep in his throat as their tongues met and he tasted the sweetness of the body paint still on Malcolm's mouth. He deepened the kiss and ran a teasing hand down the shorter man's sticky chest. When they parted, he licked the chocolate from his fingers and grinned. "Better get cleaned up."

Malcolm nodded and the two of them trailed into the lav.

"Tight squeeze," commented Trip.

"I've known tighter," quipped Malcolm licentiously, causing Tucker to grin wider.

"I'm sure you have."

They took turns sponging one another off with hot water and soap.

"One of us really needs an en suite with a shower attached to his quarters," muttered Malcolm as he ran a warm, sudsy washcloth over and between Trip's buttocks.

"Then we'd never leave the cabin," rejoined Trip.

"I expect you're right." Malcolm rinsed the cloth and moved up to work on Tucker's strong back and broad shoulders, taking his time.

"I really wish I could see what you paint sometime."

"I could paint your chest, I suppose, but it would be difficult with all that hair of yours."

"I could shave it," suggested Tucker.

"Not on my account," protested Malcolm quickly. "I like it as it is."

Trip let the idea drop. He wasn't really keen on it anyway. But… "So what did you paint this time, anyway?" He saw Malcolm's reflection in the mirror grin mischievously.

"It was my own version of a plate from _The Carnal Prayer Mat_ by Yu Li."

"Pardon?" He turned to face his lover, taking his turn at sponging the chocolate off of Malcolm.

"It's ancient Chinese erotica. I had to read it for an Eastern Literature class at university."

Tucker laughed. "Wonder what your lit prof. would say if he knew how you were using your education."

"I considered that question myself. And I wonder what my Life Drawing professor would say," added Malcolm, enjoying the feel as his partner scrubbed the paint from his chest. "He didn't think I showed much promise as an artist."

"Depends on your definition of 'artist', I suppose," Trip joked, giving Malcolm a quick kiss. He rinsed out the washcloth and handed it back to the shorter man. "Here."

Reed took it reflexively. "What? Did I miss a spot?"

"Not on me, but there's a mess on your desk."

"You mean besides the body paint and lube I spilled, don't you?"

"Yep."

Malcolm shook his head in mock distress. "All right. I'll clean that up, but make sure I really didn't miss a spot on you. The last thing I need is some steward wondering why my sheets come into the laundry with chocolate on them," he continued as he went to wipe off the desk.

Trip gave himself a final once-over with another cloth, replying, "If anyone ever asks, just tell them you were eating cookies in bed."

Malcolm looked back at him and made a face. "Ugh. Crumbs."

Trip just laughed again.

It wasn't long before Malcolm deemed them both, and the cabin, sufficiently tidy. He shut off the lights, and the two men made themselves comfortable in Reed's bunk.

Tucker snuggled in behind his partner and wrapped an arm around his waist. He kissed Malcolm's ear and then nibbled it tenderly.

"There are more cookies if you're still hungry," teased the dark-haired man softly.

"Mmm. This'll do fine, thanks."

There was a silence as Trip continued to alternately lick and nip at Reed's ear.

Eventually Malcolm said, "I'm glad you and Stephanie finally talked."

"Huh?" It wasn't at all the topic in Trip's mind, and he was surprised by the seeming non sequitur.

"I couldn't have shared either the cookies or the body paints with you if you hadn't."

Now Tucker understood the connection. "Yeah. Sorry it took so long for me to get over that."

Malcolm rolled over in Trip's embrace so they faced one another. "Accepted." He smiled and could just make out the echoing smile on the engineer's face.

Trip couldn't help teasing a little. "I'll make sure to thank her tomorrow."

"For?" prompted Malcolm, puzzled.

"For fixing us dinner…and dessert."

The idea of someone else knowing about tonight made Reed blanch. He almost protested but just as quickly reconsidered it. After all, Cormack had come up with the edible body paints all on her own; she obviously had a clue how he'd use them and with whom. He had the sneaking suspicion that Tucker might get more than he bargained for should he actually thank her for them. His smile grew sly. "I'm sure she'll appreciate knowing you enjoyed her gifts."

*****

 


End file.
